Missing
by Mione3
Summary: Jeb goes missing.


**Title:**

**_Missing_ **

**Disclaimer:**

_Not mine…_

**General Info:**

_Rated K+ _

_General/Angst_

**Author's Note:**

_I wrote this awhile ago for an online competition and decided to post it here now that the competition is over. (This is one of the reasons my Better or Worse story was on hiatus) PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story.  
_

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**_'How could this happen?'_**

Wyatt was _frantic._ His mind reeling. The woods seemed to close in around him, thinning the air of oxygen as his breath started to come up short in his throat.

**_'I only turned my head for a second!'_**

Rational thought was gone. Time slowed down and sped up at the same time. It had been such a wonderful day, now it was turning into a horrible nightmare.

Precious minutes were ticking by as he stood frozen to the ground, his eyes trained on the spot where his son had stood mere moments ago. All color was gone from his face; his blue eyes looked eerily bright with fear against the stark, putrid white of his skin. Though the outside temperature was extremely cool, perspiration began to bead along the hairline under the confines of his fedora and still he stood there, stock still, lost in his disbelief.

Thunder ripped through his brain, triggering the desperate need to move, to search, _to find him_. Like a bolt of lightning he was off, everywhere and nowhere in the blink of an eye. Zigzagging back and forth from one side of the brick route to the other and bouncing from tree to tree. All the shrubs and underbrush were checked even though he already knew they did not hide Jeb from view since there was little in the way of leaves this time of year. But Wyatt would allow no spot to be passed over just incase there was a footprint or broken twig present to point him in the right direction.

Jeb had always been a curious child. Wishing to make his own discoveries of the world he didn't heed the advice of his father, never taking "no" for an answer. This, however, was the first time the youngster blatantly disregarded a direct order. "Do not leave my side!" was not a hard thing to understand, even for a child of five annuals.

"_Jeb_," Wyatt began bellowing as he ran through the brush. "_Jeb!_"

And while he was concerned for the safety of his son he was also concerned for his own wellbeing should his wife find out.

Adora was a mild-mannered woman with a soft touch and calming voice, but behind the stately exterior… well, Wyatt knew how intimidating the small woman could be without even raising her voice. Her fluid words, low voice, and heated stare did more to jangle his nerves than bullets flying through the air ever could.

**_'I'm a Tin Man, for crying out loud!'_**

The slip of a woman, currently preparing the evening meal in their meager cabin by the pond, should not make him quake in his abnormally large boots. But she had that way about her when her temper flared. Place her son in harms way and you're sure to see the sparks fly. A shudder ran up his spine at the mental image.

Wyatt slid to a halt when the pond came into view, the dock by their home visible on the opposite shore. Eyes scanning the perimeter for the missing boy his blood froze in his veins upon seeing Jeb's shoes lying abandoned on the sandy shore.

_"Sweet Ozma, no!"_ he breathed out in a harsh whisper, his eyes shooting back to the still surface of the water.

He'd been begging to learn to swim for weeks. The timing was all wrong, the season not conducive to swimming, the temperature far too cold. It would be several cycles before lessons could begin and Jeb got his patience, or lack thereof, from his father.

Terror reached in and grabbed hold of his heart. Rushing forward he shrugged off his duster, knocking his hat to the ground in the process, and dove into the pond without thought to his clothing or boots. The sudden onslaught of the icy water stole what little breath he had left.

When he opened his eyes to search the bottom he could barely see a few inches in front of his face it was so murky. His eyes fluttered a few times, the swirling particles irritating the sensitive film. For the first time in his life he found himself praying to all the Ozian Gods, a fitful prayer to spare his son, to help him find the boy before it was too late.

**_'My son!' _**his brain screeched.

He had to find him, had to save him from this watery grave.

Wyatt shot up to the surface as the need for oxygen became too powerful to resist. Treading the water he sucked in much needed breath, the fear soaking through to his core. The cold of the water leeching into his skin was beginning to numb his extremities. He wouldn't last much longer under these conditions, hypothermia sure to set in, but he could not have cared less. There would be no living with the knowledge he allowed his son to drown. If his boy died, so too would he, for he'd never again be able to face himself in the mirror let alone his wife.

A faint giggle hit his ears and he swept around to face the tree line. The terror that had taken hold of his heart let go as relief flooded his entire being at the sight.

There, standing in his bare feet, hand pressed against his mouth to stifle the onslaught of giggles, was Jeb.

"Daddy," Jeb wined through his fingers, "I wanna swim, too!" and he began bounding forward heading toward the water's edge.

Long, swift stokes with his arms and hard kicks of the legs helped him get to the shore in a matter of seconds. Strong arms wrapped around the little boy, lifting him up, cradling him against his chest.

"Daddy, I can't breathe!" the muffled voice rumbled through the wet leather of his vest.

Wyatt let a snort of laughter loose as he set his son back down on his feet. A quick run of his hand through those short dark blonde curls helped to reassure Wyatt he wasn't imagining Jeb standing there in front of him.

Then suddenly he remembered why he was so relieved and his face changed from the fatherly smile to an intimidating frown of disapproval. Jeb seemed to sense the change and began shifting between feet, hands working over each other in front of his now damp jacket, worrying his lip with his teeth. In that moment he looked so much like Adora whenever she was worried.

**_'I'm supposed to be angry!' _**

But his anger seemed to be fading away the more he looked at his nervous son.

**_'He can't get away with wandering off! I've got to be strong!' _**

It took all his energy to smother the smile attempting to bubble to the surface.

"Don't you _ever _walk away like that again," he ground out, squatting down to be eye level with Jeb. Reaching out he grasped the boy's upper arms tightly, squeezing them just a bit harder than he should in order to make his point all the more clear. "_Do you understand me!_"

Jeb's eyes began to fill, looking everywhere but at his father, and he nodded mutely in response. Wyatt lifted one hand to brush it along the side of Jeb's face, wiping away the first of his tears. A sob shattered the silence and Wyatt once again picked up his son trying to ease his crying. Bending down, his fingers wrapped around Jeb's discarded shoes.

Holding his son securely in his arms, rubbing a hand up and down his back as the boy continued to sob, Wyatt began the walk home. His eyes rolled skyward when the noise, not to mention the feel, of his waterlogged boots sloshing with each step reached his ears. He would have to use the time it took to circle around to the other side of the pond to figure out how to explain all this to his wife.

**_'Who'm I kidding?' _**

Another tremble ran up his spine.

**_'I'm a dead man!'_**

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AN: I like this story... hope you'll tell me the same :)

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